


Live To Serve

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Backstory: Ianto Jones, Canary Wharf Battle, Ianto's Duties, Ianto's Family, M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack explores Ianto’s past and the Jones family. The revelations deeply affect their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live To Serve

**Author's Note:**

> Written before I knew Ianto's background.

Jack never asked how Ianto came to work for Torchwood. He was just there with his impeccable suits and sublime coffee. Jack had taken Ianto’s filing skills, dedication and even subtle sense of humour for granted until the Cyberwoman incident. That’s when Jack realized Ianto was a mystery.

Jack had never bothered to look into Ianto’s past or personal life. But he made a point of finding out everything there was to know about the young man after the betrayal.

Jack used his clearance to access the classified files of not only Ianto, but his family. Jack soon discovered the names Jones and Torchwood were almost synonymous. Never in leadership roles, but always working diligently in the background.

The Jones family started its affiliation with Torchwood when Ianto’s ancestor, Felix Jones, began working for the institute under the direction of the Queen herself. He was influential in ensuring its success in the early years. Felix had been born out of wedlock, son of Violet Jones, a housemaid in the Queen’s household who had been sequestered away to Wales after her youthful indiscretion with the Crown Prince was discovered. She never married, but had four strong sons with a striking resemble to the Prince of Wales. Each of the Jones sons served Torchwood, as did their progeny right down to Ianto.

Every crisis Torchwood had been through had seen a Jones laying down their lives and serving without notoriety. The bloodline had almost been destroyed in World War One with all but a handful dying in the line of duty. A Jones, under an assumed name, had been a trusted aid to Winston Churchill during the war years. A Jones, Ianto’s uncle and last adult living member of his family, had been there to stop the assassination of the entire Royal family in 1997. Ianto still sent money to support his cousins who would soon come of age and wanted to follow in his footsteps.

Ianto had not only been at the Battle of Canary Wharf, but he had survived. One of twenty-seven known survivors and he was the only survivor still in active duty serving Torchwood. Of the twenty-seven survivors, three were in comas, thirteen suffered from a mixture of debilitating mental illnesses and permanent physical injuries. Five had committed suicide. Those were not statistics in Ianto’s favour. Nor was the fact that the Jones family had the unfortunate certainty of a short life expectancy.

Ianto was an only child. His mother, Agape, died in the service of Torchwood when Ianto was eight years old. His father was attacked by a Brudyac and had to retire on permanent disability when Ianto was eleven. By the time Ianto was twelve years old his father had died of a massive stroke after spending the sad remainder of his life rotting away in a nursing home at the tender age of thirty-nine.

Ianto became a ward of Torchwood and was sent to the best public schools in Wales. From the Cathedral School in Llandaff he went to Cardiff University to receive a bachelors of science in Computer Science with Knowledge and Information Systems, all paid for by Torchwood. The degree was recommended as a good fit for his career and he worked summers interning in the archives. His progress was monitored closely by Torchwood headquarters and after graduation, he was immediately streamed into the service.

His psychological profile labelled Ianto as stable, reliable and a team player. The only negative comments indicated he had tendencies towards obsessive compulsive behaviour and could be reclusive. A notation marked that he had sought official permission to date Lisa Hallett and it had been granted. There was a hand written note from his psychologist warning that Ianto had a propensity towards co-dependent relationships. The last notation in the section concerning personal relationships noted that shortly before the Battle of Canary Wharf, Ianto had requested official permission to ask Lisa to marry him. After Canary Wharf, Ianto had attended mandatory counselling before being vetted back into service and the same psychologist noted that he was coping reasonably well with Lisa’s loss.

Jack closed down the file knowing that Ianto was less of a mystery, but still a large problem. Now Jack wanted to hear it from Ianto.

++++++

“Tell me about yourself… your family, Ianto. How did you come to Torchwood?” Jack had worded it in the tone of a command, not a question. They were alone, everyone else had left, losing the battle long ago with exhaustion.

Ianto looked up from the files he was working on and nodded. Without questioning, he answered, “My family has served Torchwood since it was founded under Queen Victoria, sir. There was no question as to what my calling in life would be.” Ianto stopped to put a label onto a file. He lined it up perfect with the edge before laying it down slowly. “I had a natural aptitude for the service.”

“Is that what they call it? The service?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jack came to stand beside the desk that Ianto used in the Hub. He cocked his hip, leaning against the desk, and crossed his arms over his chest. “And your job? Tell me what you think your job is.”

Ianto didn’t look up from the stack of files he had on his desk. He was processing paperwork from yet another UFO sighting, this time over Merthyr Tydfil. “It’s my job to know what you need. To anticipate what you need before you ask for it.” Ianto closed one file and moved onto the next. “Are you reviewing my job description, sir?”

“Maybe.” Jack knew there was still the unspoken tension between then, even after everything. Following immediately the Cyberwoman’s death, Ianto had looked up into Jack’s office, locking eyes with him. Jack had nodded, sharing an understanding. An understanding that Ianto was still part of the team for now, but not forgiven. “Maybe I’m just curious. What would you say is the ideal characteristics of someone in your position?” When Ianto gave him a wilting look, Jack shook his head. “Let’s start with tolerating a boss’ strange requests.”

“Every superior has their eccentricities. It’s simply to be expected and dealt with, not tolerated. It is not my place to tolerate anything.” Ianto looked up at Jack again with a hint of smirk this time. “Endure, perhaps, is a better choice. As a subordinate…”

Jack choked on the word. “Subordinate?”

“Yes, subordinate, sir.” The impassive expression on Ianto’s face hadn’t changed during the questioning. “The first quality one must always possess in the service is humility. We work for great men and women. Our betters. My father always said I should never forget humility, discretion and efficiency, but most importantly, loyalty.” Ianto gave Jack a pointed look, haunted with regret and guilt. “I forgot where my loyalties should have lied. It will never happen again.”

“You make yourself sound like a servant.”

Ianto shrugged his shoulders stiffly, the motion looking odd in the taut suit. “It is simply a word. Nothing to be ashamed of. Great men…” Ianto gave Jack a tiny smirk, “Do not have the time, nor the inclination, to deal with the mundane aspects of life.”

Jack’s quick mind flashed to images of Ianto. Ianto working quietly in the background of Torchwood. Jack had seen such behaviour before. He remembered such men and women working for nobility and politicians across the ages and galaxy. The unnamed faces who operated in the background. Ghosts and shadows. It made his stomach drop to think of Ianto as one of those faceless drones.

It was a skill to do your job without being noticed and disturbing those you worked for. It was a necessity to move automatically to the side of the room or hallway, avoiding eye contact. It was a talent to keep your mouth shut when your opinion wasn’t wanted, even though you had one.

How many times had Jack and the others left the Hub a disaster, returning to find it spotless? How many times had he left photographs and evidence strewn about his desk only to return to find it all processed in a neat file? Ianto was the order to his chaos.

Ianto had taken on responsibilities Jack should have taken on without being asked. And there was no reason Jack couldn’t have done them. He didn’t sleep. He merely wanted to avoid the tedium and hassle of the paperwork and processing. Even the way Ianto called him ‘sir’ and almost always deferred to him spoke to his subservience.

As always, Ianto seemed to be in tune with Jack’s thoughts. “I’m not embarrassed, sir. We all have a role to play. I play my part by making your life easier. I’m not meant to lead, you are. I’m intended to serve. That was another lesson my father taught me. To be satisfied with my role in life. Ambition does those in the service of others a disservice. Humility, discretion, efficiency and loyalty.” Ianto had repeated the litany he had learned as a young child. “A person in the service of a great man should not rely on praise. My ambition is to make you ignorant of my presence in your life. Your life should function as smoothly as possible without certain… problems arising to your attention.” Ianto looked briefly at his hands and covered the action by tugging at his cuffs links.

They both knew what problems Ianto was referring to. Problems like Gwen Cooper that Ianto had tried to cover up. But also other, what Ianto called, “indiscretions”. Sometimes Jack went out to satisfy certain urges. No matter how base or ugly those urges were, the mess always seemed to be cleaned up quickly. Once when Jack went back to apologise to a young woman the next day, her apartment was put to right and she looked at Jack like she had never seen him before. If Jack hadn’t seen the bite marks on her shoulder peaking out from her pretty floral blouse, Jack would have sworn he imagined the previous night activities. Ianto even literally cleaned up the bodies left in Jack’s wake. With the same quiet efficiency he made coffee, Ianto had been known to put limbs and unidentifiable body parts into the garbage bags. Without comment, Jack would come back to find their vehicle cleaned of brain matter and blood. Ianto was a problem solver.

“You should never know the full extent of my services. That, sir, is the definition of my job. We all have blood on our hands, but you shouldn’t have to deal with yours.”

Jack reached over and grabbed Ianto’s hand, turning it palm upwards. He traced the lines he saw there with a finger. “You’ve cleaned up my messes.”

“No questions asked. It’s the way it should be, sir. The way you wanted it.”

“Why?”

“It’s my duty.”

For Jack, Ianto did so much. He had found a seamstress who recreated Jack’s beloved uniform flawlessly. When one was ruined, another would appear without comment in Jack’s personal rooms. Ianto also had a scary talent for the small things. With the perfect cup of coffee, when Jack was craving it, there would appear the most delicious sarnie sandwich on his desk. The funny thing was that Jack never told Ianto that was a favourite delicacy. Ianto always kept a bottle of Crown Royal stocked in the bottom left drawer of Jack’s desk, with clean tumblers nestled next to it. And the one thing that always made Jack smile was the tiny stash of Cyflaith in Jack’s top right desk drawer. How Ianto managed to get the Christmas Welsh toffee out of season, Jack would never know.

Ianto was the backbone and work horse of Torchwood 3. But his dedication went beyond Jack. Ianto had helped all the members of Torchwood 3 cope. Ianto had taken the inappropriate jokes and abuse from Owen without retaliation. When Suzie was alive, Ianto would order in her favourite Chinese takeaway, just to see her smile. When Tosh fell apart, he was there to offer her quiet support. When Gwen was having troubles at home, two tickets to a rugby match for her man’s favourite team had appeared on her desk.

“And the others?”

Ianto pulled his hand away from Jack. “They are an extension of you, sir.”

Jack reached out and laid a hand on Ianto’s shoulder. “Who takes care of you, Ianto?”

Ianto looked immediately uncomfortable. He stood up and grabbed the stack of files. “If you will excuse me, sir, I have work to do.”

There was that momentary hesitation where Ianto waited to be dismissed by Jack. Jack gave him a little nod, but Ianto had only taken a few steps when Jack asked, “How do you think you’re going to die, Ianto?”

Ianto turned and looked at Jack over his shoulder. “I’ll die with my boots on.”

Jack got up and walked over to Ianto. He took the files from Ianto, who was holding them close to his chest almost like a shield. “Ianto…” He set the files down on Tosh’s desk and stepped so close and cupped Ianto’s face between his palms. “Ianto, what should I do with you?”

“Anything you want.”

The answer did not surprise Jack. After all this, Jack knew Ianto had changed.

Jack remembered the first time he touched Ianto with the intention of having him. When he came back from meeting the real Captain Jack Harkness, his heart had been broken. Ianto had been real, close and willing. He hadn’t fought Jack, but leaned into his touch and moaned softly when Jack kissed him. And when Jack cried out another name, Ianto hadn’t pulled away. There had just been quiet acceptance.

Every time after that, Jack had always been the first to touch Ianto and the man never turned him down. He always accepted Jack’s touch. A touch that could be gentle or unforgiving. A touch that had longed for the Doctor, but settled for Ianto. Ianto had taken Jack’s intensity, letting himself be bent over Jack’s desk even though they both knew Owen was watching from down below. Jack had heard Owen whispering taunts to Ianto afterwards, but had done nothing. He had been too wrapped up in his own sorrow and loneliness to care. When Jack touched or laughed with Gwen, Ianto just looked the other way.

Jack now recognized that Ianto’s quiet acceptance and lack of anger was a symptom of resignation. That Ianto was resigned to take whatever Jack gave him as penance.

Now Jack gently caressed Ianto’s skin and pulled him close. As Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist, Ianto hid his face against Jack’s neck. The man was a contradiction of strength and vulnerability.

But there was another symptom Jack suspected and had to test. He kissed the top of Ianto’s head and whispered into his hair, “Ianto, if I asked you to eliminate one of the team, would you?”

Ianto’s grip on him tightened and his answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Even yourself?”

There was no hesitation. “Yes, sir.”

The man had been broken and lost everything. He had lost his parents and love of his life for Torchwood. Ianto’s devotion was absolute, but Jack knew it wasn’t for Torchwood anymore. It was for him. And God help him, but he wanted it. He hated himself for it, but he wanted to posses Ianto.

Jack still hated that Ianto had chosen Lisa over him. He had never forgiven Ianto for that betrayal. But Jack also knew that only someone who had fallen so far would cling to what they were granted with true devotion and fervour. Ianto appreciated his second chance, even if he thought he didn’t deserve it. He did everything in his power to earn Jack’s trust back.

Holding him now, Jack felt such a sense of responsibility. Ianto belonged to him. And for the first time in the longest time, he felt a little bit more alive. Ianto needed him. The possessiveness he felt was wrong, but Jack didn’t care. Now for the first time he truly understood the joy and pain the Doctor experienced with his companions.

“I’m not asking that of you,” Jack told him fiercely. His hand tightened in Ianto’s hair and tugged his head back. Jack kissed him deep and long, showing him that possessiveness. He knew what Ianto was desperate to hear. He knew what would calm Ianto’s insecurities and fears. Jack kept his fingers wound in Ianto’s hair and hissed into his ear, “I need you, Ianto.”

The twenty-first century was where everything changed, but Ianto just might make it tolerable for Jack, even if his brief life was a flash in Jack’s long life. Sometimes the short-lived fires burned the brightest.

END.


End file.
